


Knock Knock, Who's There?

by SingingInTheRaiin



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alana is just a concerned friend, Gen, Hannibal is (technically) not a cannibal, M/M, Monster Hannibal, Will wants nothing to do with any of this nonsense, slightly gory descriptions of bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingingInTheRaiin/pseuds/SingingInTheRaiin
Summary: "Will could see something moving out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t bother turning to look at it. He already knew from experience that it would disappear as soon as he looked, and then he’d be left to question his sanity even more than he already did on a daily basis."Will's been haunted by... something... for as long as he can remember. But it's never caused him harm before, so it's not too big a deal, right? Except when he actually meets that something, Will is definitely going to regret not trying to get rid of it sooner.





	Knock Knock, Who's There?

Will could see something moving out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t bother turning to look at it. He already knew from experience that it would disappear as soon as he looked, and then he’d be left to question his sanity even more than he already did on a daily basis. Will wondered if maybe he should look into getting a pair of those horse glasses that blocked off peripheral vision. It would certainly make it much easier to pretend that there was nothing just slightly too far off to the side.

But in the end, he found that the best strategy was just regular ignorance. He had been able to see those blurry glimpses of… something ever since he could remember, and it had never once tried to do anything to harm him, so it was really mostly an annoyance at this point. 

“Well? What did you see?”

Will glanced over at Jack, who was waiting around with his usual impatient expression. “I see an agent who isn’t giving me more than five seconds to actually take a look,” he said, making sure that his irritation was clear in his voice. “If you want me to be effective, then you seriously need to just clear the area for a few minutes.”

Jack sighed, but did as Will asked, and made sure that there was no one else in the immediate section of woods that the body had been found in. Once he was sure that he was alone, Will closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, willing his imagination to step forward and help him recreate the scene. 

When he opened his eyes, he could see something moving out of the corner of one, but just ignored it as he quickly made his way back to Jack and gave him a report of what he’d seen. With that out of the way, Will took off, eager to get home to his dogs. He stopped at a local butcher shop on the way home, wanting to pick up some fresh meat to make some dog treats. He felt bad about being dragged away from them repeatedly, and having to leave them home alone while he was busy looking for Jack. 

There was the cut that he was looking for. Will reached out to grab the package, at the exact same time that someone else did. Will looked up at the other person, and froze, staring with wide eyes. He immediately let go of the meet and took several steps back. That was no person in front of him. There was just a shadowy looking monster with blood red eyes and great antlers rising up from their naked skull. There was a faint haze around the outline of the figure, and for the first time in a while, there was nothing moving out of the corner of his eye. 

The only explanation was that whatever it was, it was standing right in front of him. Will thought he mumbled something along the lines of “It’s all yours, buddy,” but it was hard to even think, and everything happened in a blur as Will turned around and ran out of the shop. He didn’t care if the person at the counter thought that he looked insane, or if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He just knew that no one survived in horror movies by sticking around once shit got weird.

Will booked it back to his house, though he had enough presence of mind to go through the motions of losing a tail, as if a shadow monster was going to drive after him. When he finally got home, he wasn’t sure whether it would be more appropriate to burst into tears or to just start laughing and never stop. 

He made his way into the house, and was immediately greeted by his pack, who were just as happy to see him as always. He dropped to his knees and pulled them all as close to him as possible, letting them rain kisses down on them as he took comfort from their warmth and their love. 

Will wasn’t sure how long he stayed on the floor like that before he finally got up and closed and locked his front door. He would just stop at the regular grocery store tomorrow, for the meat and for a few other things that he might need. It wasn’t until he’d stripped and got into bed that it occurred to him that there was something almost funny about the idea of a monster buying sausage at the store. He was glad that he had no neighbors, so that there wouldn’t be anyone to hear him laughing himself to sleep.

,,,

When Alana Bloom walked to the front of the lecture hall after Will had dismissed his class, he knew immediately that something was up. She never tried to be too obvious about it, but she’d never once been alone in a room with him in the entire time that they’d known each other. He pulled off his glasses and tried to pack his briefcase up quicker, as if that would somehow give him the ability to leave without her noticing. 

She stopped right in front of the desk, and cleared her throat once. “How are you, Will?” 

He looked up, though avoided making eye contact with her. He also did his best to avoid thinking about crimson eyes full of hunger and- “I’m fine. Great. Perfect. How are you?”

Alana reached out to gently touch Will’s arm, and he stopped with his frenzied packing. “Will, I’ve been talking with Jack. He thinks that you are a big asset when it comes to field work, and I can’t refute the results. But we’re both worried about you. There’s a reason that you stopped with that kind of work in the first place.” It was because the thing in the corner of his eye always seemed to get bigger and more animated when Will let himself look at the crime scenes, but he thought that it was best not to say anything like that. “Jack’s probably going to try and frame it in some other way, but the truth is that he’s going to try and get you looked at by a therapist. I promise that I recommended one of the best in the business, and-”

Will pulled his hand away from her, and he shook his head. “There’s no point. Therapy doesn’t work on me, and even if it did, I’d rather stop looking at the bodies than have someone else looking in my head.”

Alana tilted her head thoughtfully. “Are you sure? I know how much you wanted to become an official agent back in the day. I’m not trying to sway you in one direction or another, I promise. I just want you to be the happiest that you can be.”

Will shrugged one shoulder as he closed and latched his briefcase. “I don’t think that looking is good for me, no matter what results Jack might get out of it. I shouldn’t go into that kind of headspace. I am content to teach, and write the occasional paper. It’s what I’m good at, and what I’ve gotten used to. In a good way.”

Alana nodded once. “I understand. In that case, you don’t have to go to Jack’s office. He was planning on having you meet with my recommendation there, but I’ll explain this to Jack. Nobody’s going to make you anything you don’t want to do, I promise.”

With that all sorted, Will gave Alana an abrupt nod, and then headed on his way. He wanted to hurry up and finish his errands so that he could hurry up and get home. Even though logically, he knew that it was a lot less secure than Quantico, he couldn’t deny that it felt a lot safer to him. 

Unfortunately, his plans were thwarted when one of his students passed him in the hallway and asked him questions about their homework assignment. Normally he would blow them off and tell them to just email him like he said in the syllabus, but they asked intelligent questions, and Will found that with the weight of Jack off his back, he was in a rather charitable mood. So he stayed and had a decent discussion with the student about their topic, and then he was finally ready to be on his way.

Once he was in the parking lot, ready to get in his car and drive off, Will saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He broke his own rule by whirling around to see, and for the first time in his life, it didn’t disappear. It stood there, and seemed to be staring at him, and Will could feel his heart racing with adrenaline. 

He pressed himself back against his car as the monster stalked closer and closer to him. Will noticed with almost hysterical humor that it was wearing an expensive looking suit, and carrying a fancy leather briefcase. It stopped just a few feet away from him. “Mr. Graham? I am sorry that Agent Crawford attempted to ambush you, and I’m glad you were able to avoid it. However, I can’t deny that I still have lingering curiosity about you. I’ve read about your empathy, and I find it quite fascinating. Perhaps sometime when you are free, we could have something of a conversation.”

His voice was actually quite pleasant, spoken with an accent that Will couldn’t place. But Will couldn’t help just staring at the monster with wide eyes. He knew that he wasn’t crazy- if he was he’d be seeing monsters everywhere. But none of the other people walking around the parking lot were screaming at the sight of the monster, and Alana would have never recommended that Will be treated by something that looked like it was straight out of a nightmare.

Which left Will to conclude that the monster appeared human to everyone else. And also didn’t seem aware that Will saw through it. So he straightened up, and tried to look as unaffected as possible, though he absolutely refused to peer into those ruby eyes. “I don’t think I caught your name.” 

The monster smiled politely. “Oh, how terribly rude of me. Dr. Hannibal Lecter.” He reached out his hand, and Will only had a second to steel himself before reaching out to shake it. The monster’s- Lecter’s- hand felt cool to the touch, though not unpleasantly so, and was almost silky soft, while still being quite firm. It definitely did not feel like a human hand. Once the handshake was over, Will resisted the urge to wipe his hand off, and just waited as Lecter pulled out a small business card and handed it over. “Just give me a ring if you’d ever like to talk.” Then he strode away, and Will kept watching, not wanting to let that monster out of his sight for even a second. 

,,,

“Hannibal said that he gave you his card but you never called him.” Alana’s voice was mild, unaccusing, but Will still felt like she was trying to put him at fault for something here.

Will shrugged before listlessly taking another bite of his salad. “I have no wish to talk to a therapist, even if he was your mentor and the greatest man to ever walk the Earth, or whatever.”

Alana rolled her eyes, but then she smirked at him. “So you’ve looked him up, then? Why? Interested?”

Will immediately shook his head. “Of course not,” he scoffed. “I don’t care about him.” He was pretty sure that telling Alana that her mentor was a literal monster would not go over well. “Anyways, did you only invite me out to lunch to berate me?”

“Of course not. I just feel like I haven’t seen you around in ages. I thought that it would be nice to catch up. So what else has been going on in your life?”

Will gave her a wary look, and was pretty sure that she wanted him to launch into some story about how he’d found the love of his life or something, but instead he told her about the newest member of his pack, and about a particularly clever student in one of his classes, and about pretty much anything else he could think of that didn’t involve Lecter, love, or the blur of motion happening just out of the corner of his eye. 

,,,

When Jack called to say that he suspected Hannibal Lecter of being the Chesapeake Ripper, Will agreed to help. After all, if Lecter was a literal monster, then it wasn’t too big a leap to think he might be a serial killer as well. So Will looked, and realized the horrible truth: the Ripper was eating his kills. 

,,,

Lecter somehow got his hands on Will’s phone number (most likely from Alana) and called to invite Will to a dinner party. Will acted very reluctant, but eventually accepted the offer. If Lecter was a cannibal (or did it not count as cannibalism since he wasn’t human anyways?), then what better way to get evidence than a dinner party?

Will showed up in his nicest suit, which still seemed to be several tiers below what anyone else was wearing. He refused to feel embarrassed about it, though. Exactly how many people in the room were rich through their own hard work? Certainly not even half of them, from what Will was able to observe.

While everyone else was participating in a pre-dinner mingle, Will headed into the kitchen. He doubted that there would be any severed limbs lying on the counter, but there could potentially be something there. And there was, but that something was Lecter, and Will didn’t want to be alone in a room with that monster.

He turned to leave, but Lecter spotted him first. “Ah, Will. I’m so glad that you were able to join us tonight.” One of the servers came into the room to grab a fresh tray of appetizers and then left, and Will shifted awkwardly on his feet. “It’s such a pleasure to have you for dinner.”

That was definitely an eating people pun. Too bad that wouldn’t hold up in court as solid evidence. “Yeah, I’m not even sure what I’m doing here, to be honest. We clearly don’t run with the same crowds.”

Lecter grabbed two wine glasses to set down on the granite island, and then poured some wine in from the open bottle that had been sitting on the counter. “So why did you come then?” 

Will shrugged as he grabbed one of the glasses, and gulped half the wine down in one breath. “Free food. I’d have to be an idiot to turn down something like that. Well, if you’re a good cook, anyways. That’s yet to be proven.”

Lecter walked right up to him, and practically purred as he spoke. “I’m sure I shall prove to exceed your expectations, Will.” Then he remained there, way too close, for much longer than seemed socially acceptable before he finally walked past Will and back out into the dining room. Will took in several deep breaths, as if he hadn’t been able to breath when Lecter was so close to him.

Once everyone was seated and had tried the first course, Will excused himself to use the restroom. He started in the direction that Lecter had pointed out to him, but as soon as he was out of sight of the dining room, he ducked into the next room over, which looped back around to the kitchen. He was careful to stay out of view of the dinner party as he looked around.

He grabbed a spare portion of the course and quickly sealed it into one of the plastic bags that Jack had insisted he bring along. Then he looked around the room as methodically as he could without crossing the halfway point of the space. He peered into the pantry and it looked fine, so he was going to leave, but then he saw movement, and quickly turned back. There was nothing there, of course, but there had to be something there.

Will walked further into the pantry, and then realized that he could see just the tiniest sliver of light in the wall, where light had no business shining through. It was a secret door. Will glanced back, but no one else had entered the kitchen, so he felt along the wall until his fingers bumped into the right latch, and he was able to push the door open just enough to squeeze through.

It wasn’t until he’d descended the flight of stairs and entered a dark room that it occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t have come down here with no backup or weapons. Not that he could get a warrant just because a secret door existed. No, Will needed to find some concrete proof of Lecter’s crimes. Then everyone would know what a monster he was, even if they couldn’t actually see it in him. 

There was a curtain made of plastic strips, and Will fumbled to pull his phone out of his pocket so that he could take photos for proof if he needed them. Or to call for help. Whichever became more relevant. He pushed past the curtain, and automatic lights above him switched on, revealing a long metal table that looked like the kind used for autopsies, several dangerous looking tools, and a couple of very large freezers.

Will cautiously opened one, and once the blast of frozen air dissipated, he could see quite a lot of raw meat wrapped in plastic. Will picked a piece up and looked at it, but had absolutely no idea how to figure out where a butchered piece of meat came from. He could stick it in his pocket and then bring it to the lab as soon as he was able to make an excuse to leave the dinner party, but what if it went rotten along the way? Well, his car would smell like shit, but the lab would still be able to do whatever tests they needed to do on it. 

“Is the food upstairs not to your taste?”

Will quickly turned around, clutching the meat in one hand and his phone in the other. He had a flip phone, so he could easily hit the buttons to dial 9-1-1, but then the call would be recorded, and Will had a few questions of his own first. “What are you? I mean besides the Chesapeake Ripper.” He brushed aside the title of one of the more prolific killers of the modern age. “Why do you look like that?”

Lecter tilted his head, and it was a miracle that those antlers didn’t scrape against the low ceiling. “Like what?”

Will gulped, then clenched his jaw. He was not going to let Lecter convince him that he was crazy. “Like you’re some kind of monster or something. People aren’t supposed to look like- like that!” He gestured to Lecter’s body. “Like something right out of a nightmare.”

Those red eyes darkened, and Lecter looked at him with sudden intrigue. “Describe what I look like to you, Will.”

Will frowned. He thought it would be pretty obvious, since surely Lecter knew what he looked like, but he answered anyways, because what else could he do? “Tall, made of shadows, or maybe car oil or something. Out of focus, like someone took a blurry picture of you. Those antlers that look like they belong on a stag.” He gulped when Lecter took a step closer to him. “What are you?” he repeated, though he knew that his voice came out shakier this time. 

Lecter reached out like he was going to touch Will’s face, but Will flinched away. “Have you seen me like this every time?”

Will nodded. “From the moment I saw you at the butcher’s. But I’ve been able to see you before that, I think. Always something,” he waved a hand just off to the side to show where he meant. 

There was a long moment of silence before Lecter spoke. “I believe the real question, Will, is what are you? No one can see through my person mask unless I let them, and I most certainly did not give you permission.” He laughed. “And now here you are, trying to get me arrested for being the Ripper, as though any prison in this world could possibly keep me contained? You said I look like oil; perhaps that’s an apt description. I could get out of any space that you put me in.”

Will tried to take another step back, but there was only cold concrete wall behind him. “Why have you been haunting me my whole life?” Will demanded. It wasn’t fair, he already suffered from how different his empathy made him, and then he’d been burdened with seeing, or almost seeing, something that only made him stand out more. 

This time Lecter succeeded in touching Will’s face. Will hated that the touch didn’t feel as disgusting as it should, considering who it was coming from. “Haunting you?” he murmured. “An interesting question from you. One could argue that you’re the one haunting me. Lurking around in my basement, saying strange things, refusing to leave my mind.”

Will shoved at Lecter’s chest, but was only met with a solid mass, and Lecter didn’t budge an inch. He was not happy about that fact. “You’re a murderer, and some kind of monster or demon or something. Whatever you are, you’re way more qualified to be a ‘haunter’ than I am.”

Lecter suddenly leaned away, though didn’t actually try to step back and give Will some space to breath. “If I let you walk away right now, what would you do? Go to Jack? Sound like you need those therapy sessions more than you’ve led anyone to believe.”

“I wouldn’t tell him about that part,” Will scowled. “But about the fact that you’re a serial killer? Of course I would turn you in. It’s my job.”

Lecter had the audacity to laugh at that. “I thought your job was to teach. Educate the bright young minds that would be responsible for capturing a man such as me. But Will, if you don’t tell them the entire truth, how will they know to make a prison that I can’t escape from? There’s no way of winning here, though I do appreciate your honesty.” He suddenly leaned closer again, and Will expected Hannibal’s breath to smell like death and decay, but instead just held the faint sweetness of the wine he’d served with dinner. “Would it truly be so terrible if you and I were to be friends?”

Will nodded adamantly. “I could never be friends with a monster.”

“Oh, but I think you could be. Your empathy must allow for it. I’ll admit that I am quite curious, Will. You have the ability to get into the mind of anyone. So what do you see when you look at mine.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut, even though that probably wasn’t the smartest move when he was up against a monster. “I don’t see anything,” he spat.

There was a pause, and then Lecter’s arms suddenly gripping Will’s shoulders, though not rough enough to cause any pain. “That’s because you’re too afraid to look.” He spoke in the patient, calm voice that one would expect to hear during a therapy lesson. “Why are you so afraid, Will? What do you think you’ll see?”

The grips on his shoulders tightened just slightly, and then Will’s eyes snapped open, and he let himself really look. He saw something so vast and gigantic that he was dwarfed in comparison. Something full of hunger and greed and hedonism. An enjoyment for manipulating others to create excitement, a world that was almost lonely because nobody would ever see him. Will saw something that mirrored him, and he forced himself to look inwards.

Will thought back to his childhood. He knew the facts of it, that he was raised by his father because his mother walked out when he was very young, and that they’d moved around a lot. They’d been poor, and Will’s dad had always been distant, but proud of him. His dad died when Will was in college, and he’d had no other important attachments growing up. 

But even though Will knew all of that, he couldn’t actually remember it. He searched his own mind frantically for even the vaguest memory, but the earliest one he could find was of him in his first year of college. His eyes snapped open and he let out a startled gasp. He always thought that he could see the movement out of the corner of his eye for as long as he could remember, and it was still true. He could only remember back so many years, though. He stared at Hannibal, and wasn’t sure what to say.

Hannibal looked at him with wonder in his eyes. “You’re like me,” he purred. “Oh, my precious boy, I’m right, aren’t I? You’re just like me.”

Will shook his head, trying to deny it even as he knew that it was true. “But- but then why wouldn’t you see me the way that I see you?” When Hannibal frowned, Will let out a sigh of relief. Clearly that theory couldn’t be true with such a massive hole in it. “I’m just an ordinary human. That’s all.” He probably just had a bad memory. In fact, probably most people that he asked wouldn’t be able to remember specific things from their childhoods. 

But Hannibal didn’t seem convinced by Will’s protests. “You are just one fascinating puzzle stacked on top of another, aren’t you, Will? But that’s alright. I quite enjoy solving puzzles.” Then he finally stepped away, still grinning almost maniacally at Will. “I should return to the party before my guests start to think I’m being rude.”

“Oh, wouldn’t want that,” Will grumbled. “Murder is fine, but we draw the line at…” he trailed off, and then looked at Hannibal with wide eyes. “You kill people for being rude? Is that your M.O.? God, there is something seriously wrong with you.”

Hannibal laughed. “I doubt that God has anything to do with it.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving Will in the room full of evidence. 

Will stared at the meat in his hand, which was starting to get soft from the heat of Will’s body temperature. He tossed it down on the floor petulantly, hoping that it would rot and cause Hannibal grief, and then he went back up the stairs, closing the secret door behind him. He left the house without bothering to stop and make excuses to the other guests. They probably didn’t care about him anymore than he cared about them anyways.

,,,

Jack called Will and literally begged him to take a look at the latest crime scene that was suspected to belong to the Ripper. Will really didn’t want to, but he found himself agreeing out of morbid curiosity. Whatever he saw there was partially his fault, because he hadn’t done anything to stop Hannibal when he’d had the chance. 

So Will spent a few minutes petting his dogs, and then dragged himself off to the scene. He froze once he was close enough to see it. A man whose body had been… hollowed out, for lack of a better description. The skin had been expertly flayed open, and pretty much all of the organs, muscles, and bones had been removed. In their place, the shell of a corpse had been filled to near bursting with roses in all different colors of the rainbow, though most of them were dark red. 

Will grit his teeth together as he looked. He knew exactly what this was without even having to look at it and recreate it. It was some kind of bizarre invitation from Hannibal. Suggesting that if Will was the same as him, then they should be together, as two creatures of the night. “It’s perverse,” he spat out. “It’s like a love letter.”

Jack gave him a look of disbelief. “So are you saying that this isn’t the Ripper, or… are you saying that the Ripper’s got a crush?”

Will balled his hands into fists. “I wish that wasn’t what I’m saying. But I don’t know how else to interpret this.”

Jack turned to some of the others milling about, and started barking for them to figure out where the roses came from. “Unless this guy’s got a massive garden, he had to have bought them somewhere. Hopefully the rainbow assortment will stand out in some cashier’s mind.”

“He probably didn’t buy them all from the same place, and he probably used cash,” Will pointed out. “The Ripper hasn’t survived this long by being stupid.”

Jack nodded, and then waved dismissively at Will, so Will left. He didn’t want to figure out any more details of this. He just wanted to call Hannibal and figure out what the hell the monster had been thinking, but he didn’t even know Hannibal’s number. He’d deleted it from his call log, and hadn’t bothered to save it to his phone. He could drive to Hannibal’s house, but he didn’t want to give Hannibal the wrong idea about his opinion of the ‘art’. And he also didn’t want to be alone in Hannibal’s house, with no one else to hear him if he had to shout for help.

So he just went home. Maybe he’d be able to process what he’d seen after some quality time spent with his pack. He got out of his car and walked up to the front door, then froze. There, lying innocently on his front porch, was a bouquet of all kinds of flowers, except for roses. Clearly Hannibal did not care at all about being subtle. What if someone had shown up and seen them?   
Will grabbed the flowers and then stomped into his kitchen, showing them down into the trash can and throwing some old leftovers from the fridge on top of them. He went to the closet to pull out the dry food for the dogs, but then spotted the bowls. The water was mostly full in all of them, and there was still food in them. 

Will ran back to the front door to check it, but there was no sign of a forced entry. He wracked his mind, trying to remember whether he’d locked it before heading out or not. He hated that he couldn’t recall. Since he lived out in the woods by himself, he generally didn’t feel worried about any break-ins. 

Will grabbed his computer to look up Hannibal’s number, but he could only find the line to the monster’s office, which would probably be useless unless Will wanted to leave a message ranting about how Hannibal deserved to be caught for being the Ripper. He slammed his laptop shut and shoved it aside, then looked over at his pack. He let them hop up onto the bed and surround him. He could use the comfort. 

,,,

After taking some time to stew about it, Will decided to go to Hannibal’s office. Direct action, and all that. He found the address online, along with his usual hours, and then drove there, bringing one of the smaller dogs with him, just to maximize how much he could annoy Hannibal. 

There was no secretary sitting at the desk outside of Hannibal’s office, which Will took as permission to just walk inside. He pushed the door open, and was glad to see that there were no patients in at the moment. He might have a bone to pick with Hannibal, but that didn’t mean he needed to be an asshole to people who were in therapy. 

Will stomped over to stand in front of Hannibal’s desk, and crossed his arms over his chest. “What the hell were you thinking? I don’t need or want you killing people for me.”

One corner of Hannibal’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Who said that it was for you? Awfully presumptuous, isn’t it?”

Will hated that gleam in Hannibal’s eyes, and was suddenly glad that he couldn’t see what Hannibal’s human face looked like, because he was sure that it was currently sporting the the smuggest look right about now. “Alright, so it wasn’t for me then. But you shouldn’t be going around killing people at all!”

Hannibal slowly got to his feet and walked around the desk, with all the comfort and control of a natural predator. Will stood his ground, though. Hannibal had already had his chance to kill Will, and he hadn’t taken it. “They are beneath us, Will. All of them. Nothing more than pigs to be slaughtered.”

“Well in that case, I’m beneath you too, because I’m one of them. I don’t care what you say, I’m not like you.”

Hannibal grinned. “Oh, I think we both know that that’s not true.”

And even though Will had promised himself that he wasn’t going to back down or run away, he found himself making a hasty retreat to get away from the awful promise of Hannibal’s voice. Because when Will let himself look too closely at Hannibal, he was afraid that he would never be able to look away.

,,,

Jack didn’t call him again, but Will saw the news. Two more bodies were found. One of them broken and destroyed and physically contorted into the shape of a human heart, while the other was found with the eyes and the heart missing. There were presumably more details to the deaths that the FBI was keeping to themselves, but it was still enough for Will to know exactly who was responsible. Will found that he wasn’t terribly shocked to see that Hannibal had killed again, writing more love notes without needing to use any words. 

The more surprising part was the identities of the victims. All three of them had records from violent crimes. Will supposed that the definition of rude could be stretched to include abusers and drug dealers, but he got the feeling that that wasn’t what Hannibal was saying. He was telling Will that he was willing to change his M.O, and do something that would suit Will more. He knew that Will had a strong sense of justice, and he was trying to use that. 

The biggest problem, though, was that when Will looked further into the victims, he found that they were truly disgusting people, and that the world was probably a much better place without them in it. How could Will even let himself think like that? He wasn’t a murderer or a monster, or anything else that would make him like Hannibal. They weren’t the same at all.

The news thought that all three of the ‘loving’ murders were committed by a vigilante, and since that didn’t match the current profile of the Ripper, the Ripper was no longer the prime suspect. Will wondered how Jack was taking that news, since he’d seemed pretty sure that that flower-filled corpse had been left by the Ripper. Then he decided that he didn’t really care what Jack thought. 

Maybe there was still a way to make this work, though. Of course Will would vastly prefer it if Hannibal just wouldn’t kill people at all, but he already knew that that would be a losing battle. But if Hannibal was willing to only kill those people who barely deserved to be called ‘human’, then maybe he could work with that.

Will still refused to save Hannibal’s number to his phone, so he made the drive to Hannibal’s house. He no longer feared for his life if he were to be alone with Hannibal. It was late enough in the day that Hannibal should be back from work already, and Will felt no guilt about pounding on the door. It was a pretty fancy neighborhood, and they could do with some more late-night noise in Will’s opinion. 

It didn’t take too long for Hannibal to answer the door, and he stepped aside so that Will could enter the house. “Ah, Will, it’s so lovely to see you here. To what do I owe the honor?”

Will shoved printed out Freddie Lounds articles into Hannibal’s chest as he walked past him. “You’re absolutely insane, and the world would be a much better place without you in it. But that being said, I know that there’s nothing I can do to get rid of you, and nothing I can do to stop you, so I’m willing to compromise.”

Hannibal sounded amused as he asked, “Oh, are you?”

Will ignored it, and reached up to run a hand through his hair before answering. “Yes. Those three,” he nodded towards the articles that Hannibal was holding, “were clearly bad people, and not just people having a bad day. If you absolutely have to be killing people, then it’s better for everyone if you kill that kind.”

“You said a compromise, Will. So what do I get out of this?”

Will shrugged. “What do you want?” and then he immediately regretted the question, because he had the feeling that whatever Hannibal could want would be asking far too much of him. 

Hannibal grinned. “We are the last of our kind, Will. It’s only right that you learn exactly what that means.”

Will scowled. “I don’t want to be like you.”

Hannibal shrugged. “You don’t have to be. But you should not deny who you are or where you come from.”

“So you just want to teach me your culture, is that it?”

Hannibal took a few steps closer, letting the articles flutter to the ground. “Yes. What else could I possibly want from you?” Something in his demeanor seemed to show the opposite of what he was saying, and for just a moment, Will thought he saw a flicker of a smug human face in front of him, there and gone in a flash. 

Will bit his lip as he thought, and then he finally nodded. “Fine, deal, whatever.” The resulting look on Hannibal’s face sent chills down Will’s spine, and he wondered if he’d made the right choice. He let out a slow sigh as he continued to look at Hannibal. So long as he kept the monster within his sight, there would be no more movement out of the corner of his eye… hopefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the end seems abrupt or weird at all, I just kinda ran out of steam but still wanted to post this fic.


End file.
